hold me
by klausmikaelsex
Summary: He realises two things in that moment. Number one: He's the creepy old man sitting at the bar of a club, where most of the people there are probably half his age, and number two: what he really wants, right now, is just to be with her.


hold me

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His mind is swirling and his eyes are stinging and he's not sure how much longer he can take sitting by the bar nursing his glass of whisky.

He doesn't even like whisky that much.

His eyes close for a moment, forehead pressed against the wood of the table. Danny envisions taking a walk at a beach, toes curled in the sand, waves crashing against his legs. He's been so tired lately, what with the piles and piles of paperwork he's been spending most nights going through. He just needs a break. A break from work, a break from New York, a break from his annoying co-workers.

Suddenly his mind wanders and he's thinking about her.

He's been thinking about her a lot lately.

She had been back for about a month now. Mindy had said that the minute she had stepped off the plane "it just didn't feel right". Casey didn't come back with her.

Danny didn't ask why.

Things with Christina had ended around the same time Mindy had left. She just – she just wasn't The One, and he should laugh because he never did believe in that soul mate bullshit Mindy kept on spewing around in the office, but he didn't know how else to explain it.

Sometimes he doesn't even know why he's friends with her. Mindy and her completely insane ideas of love and romance, and the annoying way she tries to butt into his personal life, and the dumb chocolate fountain in her office, and the tight dresses she wears to dates, that show off her perfect curves and – maybe he should just stop right there.

He realises two things in that moment. Number one: He's the creepy old man sitting at the bar of a club, where most of the people there are probably half his age, and number two: what he really wants, right now, is just to be with _her_.

He pushes himself off the stool and stumbles towards the exit, flinging his jacket over his shoulder.

—

"Danny," his name comes from her mouth like a caress, or maybe she said it harshly, he couldn't tell in his current state, "wow you look like you've seen better days."

He doesn't even remember making his way over to her apartment. How did he even manage to catch a taxi in his state, let alone give the driver the address and the money?

It's an insult and he should be offended, but he isn't. He doesn't bristle, or yell at her, or bite out some kind of comeback. He doesn't even move an inch. "Mindy," he says gruffly, "nice seeing you too." He offers her the bottle of whiskey he doesn't remember taking from the club. He hears her whisper "what the heck" before she takes a couple of swigs from the bottle. He skims his eyes over her quickly. She's wearing pyjamas, which look like they have little yellow rubber ducks plastered all over them, her hair is tied up into a loose bun, and her face doesn't have a trace of make-up on it.

"You don't look too good, Castellano." she whispers, walking back into the apartment and plopping herself down onto the sofa, whilst downing the bottle. She grimaces as her throat burns, pushing the bottle into his chest as he sits down next to her.

"That stuff is gross, how do you even like it?"

"I don't."

They sit together on the sofa, a foot apart, staring at the TV that's playing some romantic comedy she's probably watched a thousand times before. "You look like death."

Danny snorts. He _feels_ like death.

She fiddles with the sleeve of her shirt, playing with the strands of her tatty, old pyjamas. "Should I even ask why you're here?"

His hand clutches the bottle tighter. "I shouldn't say it but," _spit it out Danny, _he thinks, "I'm starting to think I care." She opens her mouth to speak, but he interrupts. "I know I've had a drink," her eyebrows shoot up, "or maybe two, and I know you probably think I'm not thinking straight, but before you ask me to leave, I think you should know that, I," he takes a deep breath, "I have feelings for you."

She doesn't say anything, so he carries on talking. "Before I met you I didn't believe in soul mates or true love or any of that stuff you obsess over in those silly movies you're into, but now, all those songs, and all those poems, they make sense now."

She's left dumbfounded, her head tilting to the side, her mouth open slightly, her eyes narrowed. After a couple of painfully quiet seconds, Mindy's hand reaches for his, and he lets her slide her fingers through his. "I have feelings for you too." he hears her murmur, and she squeezes his hand.

Mindy stretches her arms out, pulling him towards her and cradles him to her chest. Her fingers run through his hair for a few minutes as he listens to her heart beating and then their lips meet when he comes up to meet her, and he doesn't think he could be any happier than when she's holding him in her arms.

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_fin _


End file.
